


The Cure for Boredom has Apple-Green Eyes

by scip



Category: Sherlock (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Dean is Not Heterosexual, Devious plan, M/M, Moriarty Is A Dick, Moriarty is Bored, Smart Dean Winchester, Smut, The Ending is quite mean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-26
Updated: 2015-10-26
Packaged: 2018-04-28 07:49:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5083750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scip/pseuds/scip
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim Moriarty is utterly and nerve-rackingly bored. That is when he meets Dean Winchester who makes him defeat this boredom, if only for a while</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Cure for Boredom has Apple-Green Eyes

Moriarty’s long, slender fingers stroke the rim of the cup he was holding, moving to a melody only he was able to hear. His eyes were filled with the expression of boredom, nevertheless the vigilant attitude that surrounded him was present as usual. To an inattentive observer he may have looked relaxed; a well-dressed man in his late thirties with perfectly groomed hair and an exquisite taste in tea, having his well-deserved lunch break, but if somebody would have bothered to take a closer look he would have seen the truth: Moriarty was an observer himself. All his attention was focused on the young man standing alone at the bar. Dean Winchester. For the twentieth time in the past hour Jim Moriarty caught himself thinking this name. Not an overly unusual name, but accompanied by the background knowledge Moriarty had of the boy it was more fascinating than anything else during the past 8 months. Jim Moriarty was bored and nothing except this young man with the perfect face and the sad apple-green eyes could cure this tedious feeling.  
A girl with long blonde curls got up from her barstool a few seats away from Dean and moved towards him, while putting her left arm on the bar she smiled and said something Moriarty couldn’t hear because of the smooth Jazz music that came from the speakers. She laughed when Dean replied, his face stayed motionless, only his fingers clasped harder around his glass of Whiskey.  
In one flowing movement Moriarty put down his tea cup and soared from the leather of his armchair. The girl winced when Moriarty’s cold hand touched her bare shoulder. “You can go now.”, he said, it wasn’t a question. She wanted to protest, that was obvious and raised her eyes. The eye contact only lasted a second but made her stop before she could say the first word. Her expression changed from confident to frightened in the fraction of a second, followed by her leaving the café downright amusingly fast. Dean didn’t seem to notice anything, or at least he didn’t care. “Jim Moriarty. Hi.”, he said, perfectly aware of the fact that the ‘Hi’ seemed to be far too colloquial to fit his pristine appearance. “Dean Winchester…”, he continued after waiting a few seconds for a reaction “I am surprised to see you here, surprised but glad. I always wanted to have a drink with you. May I sit down?” Now it was Dean’s turn to raise his head. “Who are you again?”, he said, slightly irritated. “A great admirer of your work…I was really sorry to hear about the death of your brother. A permanent situation this time, I suppose?!”, Moriarty knew exactly how his face looked at this moment. His dark brown eyes, normally hard and cold as tempered steel, lived up to the cliché of brown eyes being filled with warmth for a change. “What do you want?”, it was evident that Dean tried to sound annoyed but in the middle of the question his voice cracked. He fell silent and started to rub his hands, so hard that they turned blueish red within seconds. “Like I said..”, Jim Moriarty smiled, one of the rare smiles that actually reached his eyes “Have a drink with me, Dean. Maybe we could continue our little chit chat upstairs in my suite with a bottle of Whiskey- or tea, but I think, you prefer something high-proof at the moment.” “Brilliant deduction, indeed”, Dean said. Moriarty could have sworn that he saw a tiny smirk in Dean‘s face but it couldn’t possibly be that easy. Nevertheless he stepped aside to let the young man through. Dean had almost reached the door when he turned around “What now? Are you coming or what?” Moriarty followed him, angry with himself because of his surprise. A man like him shouldn’t be that easy to surprise, especially when he had studied his target for over a month, like in this case. They took the elevator; the music trickled down to their ears, comforting for a few moments but after this short time more annoying than most sounds. Dean looked at Moriarty, or more precisely; he looked him directly in the eyes. Moriarty returned the look, smiling a little. “What are you doing in London, Dean?” ,he asked. He already knew the answer, of course, but it was a good way to test the honesty of the Winchester. “There are two possibilities, Jim”, Dean replied, stressing the name facetiously “Number one: You’re not interested in it because you have plans with me that aren’t affected by this information or number two: you already know.” This time Moriarty had his difficulties with not showing his disturbance; he always thought of Sam Winchester as the smart one and most definitely didn’t expect Dean to suss him that easy. Even Sherlock Holmes wasn’t completely able to. “Well, Dean…”, suddenly he realised that there was no need to worry “Both of your numbers are true, but that doesn’t change the fact that I am interested in you- most ardently.” “Most ardently?”, Dean smiled, for the first time. He held the elevator door open and let Moriarty go through first. “Most ardently.”, Moriarty replied calmly and walked down the corridor. He opened the door to his suite and took a small bow. “So..”, Dean said “You want to chat ? “ “Only if it pleases you. Be my guest.”, Moriarty pointed at the seating area next to a giant window which revealed a view all over London. Dean shook his head “It doesn’t.”, he said plainly. “What would you like to do then?” “You.”, Dean said without any audible change in his voice. Jim Moriarty raised his eyebrow and smiled, but didn’t say anything. “Jim?”, Dean asks after a minute of silence, now without any sarcastic overtone while he said the name of the other man. “I thought I made it quite clear: whatever pleases you, my dear.”  
Dean made a step towards Moriarty “I don’t know why I am doing this…”, he whispered, more to himself than to anyone else. Moriarty just stood there, fixing Dean with his eyes and letting him come. He was completely calm now, again in the position of ultimate power. Dean lowered his head and a faint groan left his mouth when his lips met Moriarty’s. Moriarty was surprised- again- that he enjoyed the kiss, he had been with men before but this was nothing like it. This was the execution of a target, and target meant that he had at least a little bit of respect for the man whose lips were pressed against his. Dean’s kiss stayed gentle until Moriarty put one hand on the back of Dean’s head. It was like Dean exploded from the inside. All the suppressed anger, fear and misery from the past months pooled forces in one commanding feeling; passion. Moriarty buried his teeth in Dean’s lips and when his mouth opened on a gasp, thrusted his tongue forward into Dean’s mouth. This wasn’t gentle anymore. This was exactly what Dean wanted, what he needed. They crashed against the wall, hip to hip and heavily breathing. “Good boy”, Moriarty grinned, his fingernails dug into Dean’s neck so hard they’ve drawn blood. He felt Dean hardening against him, while he realised that his body wasn’t free of reactions either. Dean could hear the wet sound of Moriarty licking his lips. They were body to body in the door way, faltering to the bed room while untucking each other’s shirts. Moriarty’s snow-white skin was pressed to Dean’s golden one, shivering under the strong warm touch of Dean’s hands. Moriarty raised his hand, fondling Dean’s naked chest, twisting his nipple until he moaned. Dean pulled off Moriarty’s belt with a sharp sound, as leather pulled at the cloth of his belt loops. He undid the zipper what seems painfully slow- Moriarty can’t help a groan as his cock comes free of the confining fabric. He knows it is now or never. The lethal injection rams into Dean’s arm, causing him to sink to the floor within a second. Jim feels a crocodile’s smile, cold and triumphant, spread over his face. He defeated boredom, at least for the moment.


End file.
